Thursday photo prompt: Honor #writephoto
If you want to participate, here’s the link: https://scvincent.com/2019/01/10/thursday-photo-prompt-honour-writephoto/
She stood next to her husband, a tall man with powerful arms, flinching at a tenor voice much too high for a man of his stature. It reminded her of the sound grain used to make in the mills. For most of their marriage, he’d smelled a lot like the donkeys creating that sound as they walked round and round and round…
“I risk my life, and for what? A note?” Sir Gripealot mumbled.
Lady Faith sighed. “Did you read it?”
He lifted it to her face as if the mere act of expending such energy was beneath him. She ignored the gesture, straightening a floor-length dress made of brocade befitting her station as his wife.
“In memory of Sir Earnest Gripealot who gave his life…”
“Gave my life?” He huffed at her. “I am still very much alive!”
How could he not see the resemblance of his younger face in the aging stone likeness? How could he miss the fact that all around him were women in skirts past their knees, men wearing jeans and polo shirts, all holding something called smart phones?
“May I finish?” She asked politely.
“You may proceed,” he said, chin held high.
“…who gave his life to his King and lost his eyesight to save our country.”
Why bother to tell him that they both died over 300 years ago, or that the five children she had birthed had hundreds of great-great-great grandchildren living in an uncivilized, dreadful world where no one bothered to learn how to entertain guests?
“Shall we retire to our home?” He asked, bending his arm toward her.
She smiled, joyful at the thought that he would once again fall into slumber while she did what she loved best — scaring the hell out of people touring their castle.